Fic: Divergent Quintet - Wind
Title: Divergent Quintet - Wind
Author: doona_rose
Rating: T
Characters: Ten and Rose. As in Ten/Rose
Disclaimer: Don't own any of it at all. Just having fun.
Warning: Spoilers for TCI, lots of fluff and a new format to my fic writing.
A/N: Well, here is the first of five alternate endings to Divergent Quintet, the start of which you can find here. This is perhaps the most timid of all the alternate endings so it looks as though I’ll be posting them in a weird sort of ‘increasing intensity’ order. Or maybe in reverse alphabetical order…so: Wind, Snow, Rain, Ice, Fire. Yes, that works.
Thanks to saganamidreams and chicklet73 for all their help with plot and wording and titles and just generally being nice people. And, as always, thanks to everyone who reviewed, they mean a lot to me.
Dinner was turning out to be better than she’d expected. She had no idea how he knew or how he’d managed reservations but she didn’t care either. She even managed to stop questioning him on it once they were seated in a quite corner. The restaurant was hidden away down a little side street and, despite it being Christmas Day, was populated only by quite groups: couples, best friends and what Rose kept calling secret liaisons.
There wasn’t music, just the quiet talking of all the other tables and the soft light that shone through the heavy material that curtained each wall. The restaurant itself had no theme but a décor that was decidedly romantic with deep reds and browns bordered by blacks. All of it culminating to give a private, secret atmosphere to the place.
And the food was marvelous. He’d ordered for her, not even opening the menu but giving the waiter detailed instructions in a mixture of English and French. She hadn’t known he spoke French - or, for that matter, why the TARDIS neglected to translate it for her - but later on he’d explained that the dishes themselves had French names lacking in English translations. Nodding in faint bemusement was all she could manage.
When the entrée had arrived, it hadn’t looked like anything she was used to. Had she been asked to name the meat or pastry, she wouldn’t have been able to even give a good guess, but she watched him pick up one of the forks and, trusting him with far more than food choice, followed in suit. And it was delicious.
Conversation followed, the two of them leaning in to talk of the most mundane things they could, Rose daring to question him on his big plans for the coming weeks and him returning each of her probing questions with ones of his own. Trying to pry from her just what she wanted to do. It was a game and a fun one that lasted through the main course, the suggestions of possible destinations growing more and more extreme until the Doctor managed to top everything she could think of just as their plates were being cleared away.
“What about we go back 20 billion years?” he asked.
“Go back where?”
“Doesn’t really matter since I don’t think anywhere existed. And if anywhere did it doesn’t anymore.” A cryptic grin to her and then a waggle of his eyebrows to the waiter who was both eavesdropping and very confused.
Her brow creased and she laughed lightly at his insanity. “What do you mean?”
He shook his head, clicking his tongue. “Twenty billion years ago, the universe didn’t exist, Rose. No one I know has ever tried to go back that far.”
“Hang on,” she shut her eyes, recalling memories of High School science. “I thought time didn’t exist before the universe,” another pause as she tried to imagine twenty billion years ago: no space, no time. “So how could we possibly?”
“Not sure,” he replied, waving the discussion away with his hand, the dessert menus appearing at the same time. “But it’d be a whole lot of fun though.”
They fell into silence as he perused the menu, inquired as to why she wasn’t looking at hers only to find she’d decided she was going to steal half of his. A private, all-too-happy smile was shared and then his eyes moved back down, glasses perched on his nose.
She watched him. She liked him in glasses, had done since that first day in her mum’s house. There was something rather fitting about someone called the Doctor wearing glasses. Made a lot of sense. And they suited him, the pure geekiness of them adding to his own.
He caught the waiter’s eye and, again in French, said something or other. The waiter nodded and walked away.
“So, what’s for dessert?” she asked.
Taking the glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose lightly he replied. “Chocolate cake with cream and strawberries. If that’s okay with you.”
Another grin because the night had been far too much fun. “It’s perfectly fine.”
Sinking into a comfortable, companionable silence, they let their eyes wander the room, taking in the other couples, heads bowed in secret conversations, the friends, laughing as quietly as they could manage and then back to each other, sharing a knowing smile, both thinking that they were the only ones in the room to be stuck between the two situations. Best friends or lovers.
The cake arrived and Rose had been right: it was far too large for any one person to eat and, pushing it between them, their silence continued. They hardly spoke again until most of the cake was gone, all three strawberries eaten and Rose was sitting back in her seat looking rather satisfied.
“You ready to go?” the Doctor asked, laying down money for the bill.
A nod and they were both standing, Rose stretching slightly and rolling her shoulders to work the kinks from them.
He allowed her to lead them from the restaurant, grabbing both their coats on the way and pushing the door open for her. Out on the pavement the cold wind hit them hard and he saw her shiver. Holding out her coat, he motioned her to let him put it on.
Feeling his breath hitting the back of her neck clued her in to just how close he was standing. That he remained there well after her jacket was on, hands resting on her arms, gave the game away. She felt a ripple of anticipation run through her as she turned, looking up at him knowingly but confused at the same time. Knew what they wanted but was confused as to what would happen next.
It could very well be the perfect ending to a perfect Christmas. It would be, she decided; she’d waited too long for it to be otherwise.
His arms dropped back to his side as she continued to turn until she was facing him, finding him almost close enough to be pressed up against her but not touching her at all. Hands clenching into fists at her sides, she rolled onto the balls of her feet and leaned forward, hoping beyond hope he wouldn’t run. And pressed her lips gently to his.
She pulled back fast when he didn’t respond, his lips cool and dry against hers and nothing moving. It wasn’t meant to happen like this. He was supposed to warp his arms around her and sweep her off her feet, kissing her like he meant it. But he was just standing there completely catatonic, even now, he wasn’t moving, wasn’t blinking.
Biting her lip, she wondered just what to do.
Then he spoke, voice a little shaky for whatever reason, the tone still even and giving nothing else away. “What was that for?”
She continued to bite her lip, thinking before answering. “Because I wanted to.”
A pause and he stared at her as though trying to detect whether she was telling the truth or not. “You wanted to?”
She laughed uncomfortably, the sound forced. “Yes,” another pause, stretching out as she searched his eyes for something. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, looking away and moving to walk past him, humiliated and confused. “I shouldn’t have…”
He caught her arm as she moved past, the possibility of setting them back even further overwhelming the utter shock that she had finally done what he’d always wished she would. And now what?
She was pulling away, head down against the wind so he pulled her back and used his other hand to gently grasp her chin and angle her face upwards, catching her gaze with his.
“Try again,” he whispered.
“What?”
A slight smile. “Kiss me.”
She swallowed and subconsciously licked her lips. She wanted to run from him but at the same time he was standing there, looking at her like he meant it. With nothing more to lose she moved up onto tiptoes again and leaned towards him. This time she paused, inches away, hesitating.
He didn’t move so she leaned those last few centimeters and again her lips pressed to his. Softer now, still cool but wet, ready for her and reactive. He wasted no time, his hands slipping over her and his lips returning the pressure with equal force.
The shock of it wore off the moment he moved his lips, pulling back for an instant to realign and suck gently on her bottom lip, tracing it with his tongue and then pulling back again, lips leaving hers completely this time but his hands staying anchored, one on her cheek, the other at the small of her back.
Grinning widely at her, he waited, watched intrigued as her lips followed his for half a second, calling him back and almost succeeding. Then her eyes snapped open, surprise and happiness and heat swimming in them.
“Well,” she began, then mentally stumbled as she found herself unsure of what to say.
He just smiled at her, his hands leaving her body, slipping down until he was standing in front of her, now only their fingers in entwined. A sharp, decisive nod and he grinned, one hand dropping to his side as he turned and led her in the direction of the TARDIS.
And then, surprise and amusement and glee in his own voice, he whispered back: “Well, indeed.”
A/N: Yes, fluffier than a bunny rabbit on hair-growth hormones…but they’re not all this fluffy and fluff isn’t always bad. Anywho, hope you liked it, hope you review it. More with in the next two days.
Cross posted to tennant_love
Author: doona_rose
Rating: T
Characters: Ten and Rose. As in Ten/Rose
Disclaimer: Don't own any of it at all. Just having fun.
Warning: Spoilers for TCI, lots of fluff and a new format to my fic writing.
A/N: Well, here is the first of five alternate endings to Divergent Quintet, the start of which you can find here. This is perhaps the most timid of all the alternate endings so it looks as though I’ll be posting them in a weird sort of ‘increasing intensity’ order. Or maybe in reverse alphabetical order…so: Wind, Snow, Rain, Ice, Fire. Yes, that works.
Thanks to saganamidreams and chicklet73 for all their help with plot and wording and titles and just generally being nice people. And, as always, thanks to everyone who reviewed, they mean a lot to me.
Dinner was turning out to be better than she’d expected. She had no idea how he knew or how he’d managed reservations but she didn’t care either. She even managed to stop questioning him on it once they were seated in a quite corner. The restaurant was hidden away down a little side street and, despite it being Christmas Day, was populated only by quite groups: couples, best friends and what Rose kept calling secret liaisons.
There wasn’t music, just the quiet talking of all the other tables and the soft light that shone through the heavy material that curtained each wall. The restaurant itself had no theme but a décor that was decidedly romantic with deep reds and browns bordered by blacks. All of it culminating to give a private, secret atmosphere to the place.
And the food was marvelous. He’d ordered for her, not even opening the menu but giving the waiter detailed instructions in a mixture of English and French. She hadn’t known he spoke French - or, for that matter, why the TARDIS neglected to translate it for her - but later on he’d explained that the dishes themselves had French names lacking in English translations. Nodding in faint bemusement was all she could manage.
When the entrée had arrived, it hadn’t looked like anything she was used to. Had she been asked to name the meat or pastry, she wouldn’t have been able to even give a good guess, but she watched him pick up one of the forks and, trusting him with far more than food choice, followed in suit. And it was delicious.
Conversation followed, the two of them leaning in to talk of the most mundane things they could, Rose daring to question him on his big plans for the coming weeks and him returning each of her probing questions with ones of his own. Trying to pry from her just what she wanted to do. It was a game and a fun one that lasted through the main course, the suggestions of possible destinations growing more and more extreme until the Doctor managed to top everything she could think of just as their plates were being cleared away.
“What about we go back 20 billion years?” he asked.
“Go back where?”
“Doesn’t really matter since I don’t think anywhere existed. And if anywhere did it doesn’t anymore.” A cryptic grin to her and then a waggle of his eyebrows to the waiter who was both eavesdropping and very confused.
Her brow creased and she laughed lightly at his insanity. “What do you mean?”
He shook his head, clicking his tongue. “Twenty billion years ago, the universe didn’t exist, Rose. No one I know has ever tried to go back that far.”
“Hang on,” she shut her eyes, recalling memories of High School science. “I thought time didn’t exist before the universe,” another pause as she tried to imagine twenty billion years ago: no space, no time. “So how could we possibly?”
“Not sure,” he replied, waving the discussion away with his hand, the dessert menus appearing at the same time. “But it’d be a whole lot of fun though.”
They fell into silence as he perused the menu, inquired as to why she wasn’t looking at hers only to find she’d decided she was going to steal half of his. A private, all-too-happy smile was shared and then his eyes moved back down, glasses perched on his nose.
She watched him. She liked him in glasses, had done since that first day in her mum’s house. There was something rather fitting about someone called the Doctor wearing glasses. Made a lot of sense. And they suited him, the pure geekiness of them adding to his own.
He caught the waiter’s eye and, again in French, said something or other. The waiter nodded and walked away.
“So, what’s for dessert?” she asked.
Taking the glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose lightly he replied. “Chocolate cake with cream and strawberries. If that’s okay with you.”
Another grin because the night had been far too much fun. “It’s perfectly fine.”
Sinking into a comfortable, companionable silence, they let their eyes wander the room, taking in the other couples, heads bowed in secret conversations, the friends, laughing as quietly as they could manage and then back to each other, sharing a knowing smile, both thinking that they were the only ones in the room to be stuck between the two situations. Best friends or lovers.
The cake arrived and Rose had been right: it was far too large for any one person to eat and, pushing it between them, their silence continued. They hardly spoke again until most of the cake was gone, all three strawberries eaten and Rose was sitting back in her seat looking rather satisfied.
“You ready to go?” the Doctor asked, laying down money for the bill.
A nod and they were both standing, Rose stretching slightly and rolling her shoulders to work the kinks from them.
He allowed her to lead them from the restaurant, grabbing both their coats on the way and pushing the door open for her. Out on the pavement the cold wind hit them hard and he saw her shiver. Holding out her coat, he motioned her to let him put it on.
Feeling his breath hitting the back of her neck clued her in to just how close he was standing. That he remained there well after her jacket was on, hands resting on her arms, gave the game away. She felt a ripple of anticipation run through her as she turned, looking up at him knowingly but confused at the same time. Knew what they wanted but was confused as to what would happen next.
It could very well be the perfect ending to a perfect Christmas. It would be, she decided; she’d waited too long for it to be otherwise.
His arms dropped back to his side as she continued to turn until she was facing him, finding him almost close enough to be pressed up against her but not touching her at all. Hands clenching into fists at her sides, she rolled onto the balls of her feet and leaned forward, hoping beyond hope he wouldn’t run. And pressed her lips gently to his.
She pulled back fast when he didn’t respond, his lips cool and dry against hers and nothing moving. It wasn’t meant to happen like this. He was supposed to warp his arms around her and sweep her off her feet, kissing her like he meant it. But he was just standing there completely catatonic, even now, he wasn’t moving, wasn’t blinking.
Biting her lip, she wondered just what to do.
Then he spoke, voice a little shaky for whatever reason, the tone still even and giving nothing else away. “What was that for?”
She continued to bite her lip, thinking before answering. “Because I wanted to.”
A pause and he stared at her as though trying to detect whether she was telling the truth or not. “You wanted to?”
She laughed uncomfortably, the sound forced. “Yes,” another pause, stretching out as she searched his eyes for something. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, looking away and moving to walk past him, humiliated and confused. “I shouldn’t have…”
He caught her arm as she moved past, the possibility of setting them back even further overwhelming the utter shock that she had finally done what he’d always wished she would. And now what?
She was pulling away, head down against the wind so he pulled her back and used his other hand to gently grasp her chin and angle her face upwards, catching her gaze with his.
“Try again,” he whispered.
“What?”
A slight smile. “Kiss me.”
She swallowed and subconsciously licked her lips. She wanted to run from him but at the same time he was standing there, looking at her like he meant it. With nothing more to lose she moved up onto tiptoes again and leaned towards him. This time she paused, inches away, hesitating.
He didn’t move so she leaned those last few centimeters and again her lips pressed to his. Softer now, still cool but wet, ready for her and reactive. He wasted no time, his hands slipping over her and his lips returning the pressure with equal force.
The shock of it wore off the moment he moved his lips, pulling back for an instant to realign and suck gently on her bottom lip, tracing it with his tongue and then pulling back again, lips leaving hers completely this time but his hands staying anchored, one on her cheek, the other at the small of her back.
Grinning widely at her, he waited, watched intrigued as her lips followed his for half a second, calling him back and almost succeeding. Then her eyes snapped open, surprise and happiness and heat swimming in them.
“Well,” she began, then mentally stumbled as she found herself unsure of what to say.
He just smiled at her, his hands leaving her body, slipping down until he was standing in front of her, now only their fingers in entwined. A sharp, decisive nod and he grinned, one hand dropping to his side as he turned and led her in the direction of the TARDIS.
And then, surprise and amusement and glee in his own voice, he whispered back: “Well, indeed.”
A/N: Yes, fluffier than a bunny rabbit on hair-growth hormones…but they’re not all this fluffy and fluff isn’t always bad. Anywho, hope you liked it, hope you review it. More with in the next two days.
Cross posted to tennant_love